


picture me and you

by leftishark



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Friendship, Getting Together, Lingerie, M/M, Minor Allura/Lance (Voltron), Shiro & Lance - Freeform, Shiro & Paladins - Freeform, Shiro (Voltron) Has a Loving Family, blood and found, but not really in a sexual way, mention of lab accident, mention of past Shiro/other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22870738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leftishark/pseuds/leftishark
Summary: The fun of being both in front of and behind the camera is that Shiro can be anyone.After a lab accident, Shiro starts photographing himself against silk flower backdrops. When his friends find out, he invites them all to take pictures with him.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 76
Kudos: 106
Collections: Shiro Birthday Exchange 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dirkharley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirkharley/gifts).



> a gift for dirkharley, who said they like found family and shiro having lots of support. i hope you like this! and a belated happy birthday to shiro <3
> 
> in true sharki fashion i remembered some things I wanted to include after posting, small addition in ch 3.
> 
> thanks to all who held my hand, cheered me on, and bounced ideas around. this fic was inspired by [@kihmberlie on Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/kihmberlie) and [ twitter](https://twitter.com/kihmberlie). her pictures are amazing!

🖤

Shiro tucks one more hydrangea into to the sea of silk flowers arranged in a pastel rainbow across his floor. He checks for bare spots: covers an exposed patch of the sheet underneath with a feathery fern, shifts a pale yellow daffodil, spreads the pink lilies so they bleed more smoothly into orange marigolds. 

He climbs the ladder to tack his camera to the ceiling, framing the shot and checking the lighting. He pulls a thin curtain across the window to soften the sun shining in from outside. 

Finally, he shucks off his robe and adjusts the white lace over his chest and groin. He starts the self timer and lays down among the flowers, finding a comfortable pose with his arms loosely crossed overhead, legs bent at the knee and falling to one side. He tilts his chin and trains his gaze on camera, thinking _soft, open, sensual_ , imagining that he’s looking into a pair of violet-grey eyes—

3… 2… 1…

🖤

It started with an explosion, a slow recovery, and for once in Shiro’s life, too much time on his hands.

Some of his scars are from the glass. Others are cold burns; four degrees above absolute zero is an unforgiving temperature. There’s one across his nose just below the protection of the safety goggles. 

He’s come to think it makes him look badass. The story isn’t that exciting, though, just science gone wrong.

Shiro knew the risks of pouring liquid helium into vacuum-insulated dewars, and he and everyone else in the lab had done it dozens of times before. Sometimes he sympathizes with the glass, imagines it accumulating one microfissure after another until it inevitably shatters. In retrospect he wonders if the data was worth the risk, so far removed from any relevance to society; all he’s concluded is that he could never subject another person to that danger. Shiro hasn’t outright rejected Iverson’s offer to take him back at any time if he wants to continue his PhD—but for now, this break feels like a chance to start over, to reinvent himself, to decide who he is outside of the lab.

The fun of being both in front of and behind the camera is that he can be anyone. 

An athlete, a merman, a paladin in a homemade cape and armor. His first pictures were simple, just him in his favorite casual clothes, but after his parents visited with a big bouquet fresh from their garden, he started accumulating what’s now a craft store’s worth of silk flowers and greens. Sometimes he mixes it up with other materials—bright balloons, gauzy fabric. His most popular one so far, coincidentally his most risqué until the lingerie, was with his bike in the garage, wearing the shortest shorts he owns and a T-shirt from Keith, now too-small and cropped, that said _Out of This World_. He’d never wear something like that out in public, let alone strike those kinds of poses, but between him and the camera he’s a little bolder, little freer. 

It’s creative, and a lot of work, too. It keeps him busy. Shiro tries not to think of his time alone as loneliness, and he knows his friends would never think less of him for choosing to leave, but with most of them in the graduate program Shiro spends his days in PT for his new arm, at regular therapy for the wounds on his soul, and otherwise contemplating life by himself in his and Hunk’s apartment. He can’t help but wonder if what tied them all together was shared space and experience and goals, what’s left when that’s taken away.

🖤

The photo goes viral.

First on Instagram, and then on Twitter, and before Shiro can even believe the numbers, he’s getting messages from third-tier pop culture websites asking him for statements. 

He’s not surprised that it gets around to his friends. He is surprised that it’s Lance who punches his arm during Shiro and Hunk’s pizza night. The others are out in the living room, keeping the small kitchen clear while the two of them stretch out the next dough. 

Or at least Shiro does while Lance shoves his phone in Shiro’s face. “You look sexy as hell, dude!” he grins. Which, yeah, Shiro _knows_ , but he can never think of what to say to that, especially when he’s staring at a picture he took of himself in lingerie. 

“Oh, you saw that,” he says, laughing sheepishly. “Thanks, uh, that one really took off.”

“It’s awesome! All your pictures are great,” Lance says, scrolling through Shiro’s photography Instagram. 

“Thanks, man,” Shiro says again, feeling like a broken record. He lays mushrooms over fresh mozzarella. 

“You never said anything,” Lance says after a moment, not quite accusing but more serious than before. “Here I was worried you’ve been moping all alone this whole time.”

“I do not mope,” Shiro says. 

“Sure, just like you do not _pine_ —"

Shiro levels him a look, then sighs. “I just… I don’t know. I think I needed to figure things out by myself.”

Lance punches his arm again, softer, which means he gets it. “I haven’t told the others,” he says. 

Shiro’s touched; he knows what a sacrifice that is for Lance. An unnecessary one, though. “I don’t mind if you guys know,” Shiro shrugs, which is enough for Lance to gallop over to the living room and brandish Shiro’s pictures at everyone else. 

Shiro laughs to himself as he slides the pizza in the oven. Actually, it’s kind of a relief not to be keeping a secret. He never meant for it to be one anyway, at least not from his friends; he’d be mortified if his parents found some of those pictures, even knowing they’ve learned to roll with his wild life path. But they’re clueless on the Internet anyways. 

He sets a timer for eight minutes and heads over to let himself be swallowed up in the chorus of praise. He tries not to read too much into the way Keith remains totally impassive as Coran passes the phone to him, focusing instead on the pats on the back, a good-natured wolf whistle, compliments on his artistry. Their enthusiasm sparks an idea.

“How would you all like to take pictures with me?”

Allura claps her hands. “What a lovely idea! We don’t get to spend enough time with each other these days.”

It’s too true. The first year of grad school, their cohort bonded even stronger than most while they struggled through classes and the first year exam. They called their shared office the Castle, a corner room on the top floor of the tallest building, and they named themselves its Paladins. But now they work in different offices and labs scattered across campus and live in faraway parts of the city. Even before Shiro’s accident, fieldwork and conferences meant they’d go months without all getting together.

“All together or one by one?” Hunk asks.

“Why not both?” Shiro suggests. “One by one so we can make each special, and then a group photoshoot the next time we all hang out.”

The others nod and murmur their assent. Shiro looks around at all of them, warm and content, until his gaze as always settles on Keith. There’s something weighty in the way Keith looks back at him, something that sees deep into Shiro— _brother_ echoes through Shiro’s mind, called back from a night under desert stars, the familiarity grounding but settling just off balance. 

Maybe this will be a chance to find their equilibrium, if it doesn’t tip them over entirely.


	2. Chapter 2

💖

Allura goes first.

She brings over a big sparkly dress that she bought on sale and never had an occasion to wear. Royalty, Shiro thinks; Allura is a queen. He fashions an outfit for himself out of leggings, boots, and one of Hunk’s tunics, and they spend the first half of the day making crowns out of pink silk peonies. 

Once they’ve set up a simple backdrop and the camera and tripod, Allura strikes a noble pose, Shiro mirroring her. After a few shots, though, she turns to him, wrinkling her nose. “What on Earth do I do with my face?” 

Shiro laughs. “I never could get the smize down,” he admits. “I like to think of words to get at some sort of feeling, or sometimes stories.”

“Stories,” Allura repeats, still looking unsure.

Shiro nods. “Like just now, I was imagining that I’m looking down upon every asshole professor that’s wronged me or my friends. They’re my subjects.” 

Allura grins, sharp and understanding. “Sendak.”

“Zarkon,” Shiro adds with grimace on her behalf. “I will be merciful, but they don’t know that.”

“I won’t,” Allura snorts. “You displease me, Reviewer 1. To the dungeons!”

They quickly devolve into the most ridiculous gestures and declarations, pink flower crowns askew, Shiro mimicking the British accent that comes naturally to Allura. He gives up on the regal aesthetic entirely and instead captures them laughing uncontrollably, already thinking of how they can let loose again.

💙

Not to be outdone by his girlfriend and her sparkles, Lance goes for an angel theme.

“Because I am one, and so are you,” he sniffs to Shiro.

The clothes are easy enough—white sheets draped into tunics and tied with cord at the waist, tiny wings from Lance’s cousins nearby—but turning Shiro’s room into heavenly clouds takes some creative arranging of fluffy cotton stuffing, blue and white hydrangeas tucked around the puffs and twined around Greek pedestals lugged in from Coran’s yard. Shiro has never seen Lance so single-mindedly dedicated to a task. 

He follows Lance’s lead for the pictures, perching atop the pillars and arranging their limbs in some resemblance of angelic angles, until he realizes that vertical contrast would make the pictures more interesting. He steps off his pedestal to drape himself dramatically over the floor instead, looking up to Lance, who plays along after a moment of surprise. 

It’s over the top, and fun, and Lance through and through.

💚

The shoot with Pidge is the most collaborative: Shiro’s known her even longer than he’s known Keith, and they toss ideas back and forth with ease. It’s not the rapid-fire banter she has with Hunk or Lance, but something a little gentler, more swaying than bouncing.

She gets excited about Shiro’s stash of fake greenery—“better than real plants,” she comments—so they set up a lush backdrop of palm fronds and ferns and hanging vines amid a thorough discussion of realistic ecosystem design.

The next day, Pidge brings over a sloth borrowed from Keith’s zoo of unusual stuffed animals. In simultaneous flash of inspiration, Shiro crouches down, and Pidge hops onto his back, swinging the sloth over her own shoulders in a double piggy back. He knows she’s got a self-satisfied grin to match his own even before he looks over his shoulder to catch her eye.

💛

Hunk is sunshine personified: bright, warm, and generous, dimmed when clouds roll through but persevering until he shines again.

Shiro can’t bring the sun into his room, but sunflowers are the next best thing.

He arranges a cluster of them bursting out of a cardboard stand and brings the camera in to do close-ups. They sit back to back, leaning against each other, then side by side with their arms slung around each other. It’s easy, comfortable, how they are as friends and roommates. Shiro thinks the best ones will be of Hunk kneeling behind him, arms draped over his shoulders and their cheeks pressed together, smiles broad.

🧡

Coran isn’t technically in Shiro’s cohort, rather two years above and now a postdoc, but they’ve adopted him as an honorary member. His unconventional explanations helped them survive the infamous Wave Theory sequence, and he dishes out the best advice on restaurants, local hikes, and life, always ready with a confidence boost when grad school gets them down.

Shiro knows to expect the delightfully unexpected from him. 

For his shoot, Coran opts for a stylized beach look. They borrow sheets for the ocean and sky from Lance, who has four sets in various shades of blue (“They’re seasonal,” he explains) and reflect light off crinkled aluminum foil to simulate rippling waves.

Shiro quickly realizes the background is just a flimsy excuse for them to be in as little clothing as possible. Coran sports a sleeveless bodysuit, pink stripes clashing brilliantly with his hair and moustache; Shiro goes shirtless in board shorts striped to match and tucks a big orange hibiscus flower behind his ear. They pick out the most ostentatious sunglasses from Coran’s extensive collection. 

With such a setup, Shiro can’t resist flexing and flashing a cheesy grin at the camera. Coran eggs him on, pointing dramatically to Shiro’s muscles and then showing off his own when Shiro turns the attention to him. 

“Shiro,” Coran says, pausing on his way out the door, “do you know what your biggest muscle is?”

“Glutes,” Shiro answers, unsure why he’s being quizzed on basic anatomy.

Coran shakes his head.

“… ass?”

“Your heart,” Coran says, placing his hand over his own chest. “Listen to it.”

He winks and saunters away, leaving Shiro mystified in the doorway.

❤️

Keith’s day comes last.

Shiro loves all his friends, but he can’t deny that he’s been especially looking forward to this shoot. Keith’s friendship is precious: the kind of rare and beautiful that makes Shiro believe in soulmates, in quantum entanglement, in the possibility of logic or magic or both underlying the harsh randomness of the universe. 

Shiro wants the photo to be about _them_ with little extraneous distraction. He picks red dahlias for Keith’s favorite color and tells him to come in simple black clothes.

Shiro’s so excited that he doesn’t realize until Keith arrives that Keith might be _nervous_ about it.

Keith looks like a dream in the evening light, but also like he’s trying not to look small in a way that reminds Shiro of when they first met at their summer internship together in undergrad. It’s the way he carried himself again at the beginning of the PhD program. 

Shiro never wants to be the reason Keith feels this way. 

“Hey,” he says, pulling Keith into a hug and cherishing the way Keith melts into him. “Ready for this?”

“I, uh, never know what to do in pictures,” Keith admits, looking around Shiro to eye the set-up warily.

“They can be kind of awkward,” Shiro agrees. “That’s why I like doing it this way. It’s just me. Me and you.” 

“Yeah,” Keith huffs. “No big deal.”

Shiro considers him. “Hey, if it’s not your thing, we don’t have to. We can just—hang out or something, that would be fun, too—"

Keith shakes his head. “I want to do this.” When Shiro still hesitates, Keith says more firmly, “I want to do this with you. For you.”

And that’s just—so _Keith_. All in for Shiro. Shiro’s long given up on guarding his heart from the way it swoops like it’s hoping Keith will catch it. 

He puts on soft music so that the click of the shutter won’t be so jarring and sets up the remote control for the camera to take pictures automatically so he can ignore it and focus on Keith. He leads Keith over to the black fabric draped down the wall and over the floor, fairy lights sparkling around them and red dahlias scattered at their feet. They sit cross-legged facing each other.

“Thank you for doing this,” Shiro says. He wants to reach out and touch Keith, but in the dim light it feels too much, too intimate. 

Keith gives a little smile. “The darkness is nice. I like the lights.” He glances around at them and then back to Shiro. “They look like stars.”

“Yeah?” Shiro says, pleased. “I wanted to represent us. Our friendship.”

“It’s perfect,” Keith murmurs. They look at each other a moment too long, bringing warmth to Shiro’s face. “Can I lay down?” 

With a brief thought to composition, Shiro stretches his legs out and pats his thigh. After a moment’s hesitation, Keith lowers himself so that his head rests on Shiro’s lap. 

“Do you remember the first night we went stargazing?” he asks, looking up at Shiro.

Shiro smiles warmly down at him. “That was the best night of my life.” 

Keith cocks his head, the movement shifting on Shiro’s thigh. “Really?”

It was early in their summer internship. All the other interns had bailed on a night hike in the desert, so they set out just the two of them. In the safety of darkness they’d shared their hopes and fears: the end of Shiro’s long term relationship, Keith’s uncertainty over reuniting with his mom, the push toward scientific discovery and the pull of all the other things that matter in life.

“I mean, sure, the circumstances weren’t ideal,” Shiro concedes with a rueful laugh. “But the company was.”

“I said some embarrassing things,” Keith mutters, turning his face away from Shiro. 

“Hey, I did too,” Shiro assures him. “But it was really special that I could. I’d never felt so at home with another person. Not even my ex. And that made me realize that there was something greater out there.” 

Keith peeks back up at Shiro, his eyes growing wide.

“And knowing you felt that too…” Shiro shakes his head, smiling fondly. “I’ll never forget the way you put it. You said I was like family—"

“Like a brother,” Keith sighs, shaking his head. “Yeah, I haven’t forgotten that either.” 

He reaches up to tug on Shiro’s sleeve. He doesn’t elaborate when Shiro cocks an eyebrow at him, so Shiro shifts his leg out from under Keith and lays down next to him on red flowers and black fabric, curling a string of lights loosely around their heads. The two of them scoot together until they’re side by side. Shiro’s heart pounds.

“I didn’t know how to say how I felt,” Keith says quietly. “I’d never really felt that way before.” 

“Before you met your family,” Shiro says. “Your mom.”

“Family, yes; brother…” Keith runs a hand over his face. “I tried again at the end of the summer, but all I did was give you a shirt.”

“I still have it,” Shiro says. The _Out of This World_ T-shirt, a parting gift when they left for the summer, the one that Shiro outgrew and cut up and did sexy poses in.

“Yeah, I know,” Keith says, with a small, heart-stopping smirk. “It looks good cropped.”

“Oh,” Shiro says, a confusing mix of pleased and mortified realizing what Keith is implying—that he’s _seen that picture_. “I—I’m sorry, that was an inappropriate use of your gift, and I—"

“It was hot,” Keith says. 

Shiro flushes warm all over. Admittedly, that _was_ kind of the point of that picture, but hearing Keith say it sparks fire in his belly and unlocks the part of him he doesn’t dare let hope—of course, Keith could mean it objectively, in an appreciating sense—

“ _You_ were hot,” Keith presses on. “Are.”

“Keith—”

“And the fact that it was a shirt from _me_ —”

There’s no mistaking the way Keith is looking at him now, drawn in close, the heat in his eyes glittering with reflected lights. “I have been trying not to flirt with you for four years,” Shiro says weakly.

“I think we’re past flirting,” Keith says with a wry smile that melts into something softer. “Can family be two fools in love?” 

The shutter goes off as Shiro answers with a kiss.


	3. Chapter 3

🖤

Summer has turned to fall by the time all the individual photoshoots are done. The months doesn’t feel as long as they have in the past, with this project threading through the background and the Paladins making an effort to see each other outside of it, too, and off campus, where they can just be themselves.

Shiro’s used the time to edit the best photos from each shoot. There are some really striking ones—Pidge slinging the sloth around, Hunk framed by sunflowers, Coran’s million dollar grin. It warms him to see them so happy together, to see the candid affection on his friends’ faces and remember the feeling of ideas emerging between them. 

He’s been spending more time with Keith, too. They’ve always hung out a lot, but now they’re sharing nights and beds, pleasure and comfort. Shiro's lingerie has made another appearance in front of the camera, though he was quickly pulled to the bed. When Hunk goes out of town for a workshop, Keith spends the whole week at Shiro’s, working from home as Shiro stages his photos until they inevitably get caught up in each other.

Once Hunk is back and everyone’s schedules line up again, the Paladins reunite at Shiro and Hunk’s for a group picture and potluck. They’re quite the sight dressed in the clothes they wore for their pictures—Coran’s swimsuit next to Allura’s gown and Lance’s angel robes. There are hugs all around, teasing and jostling that follow them to the backdrop—an explosion of all the flowers from their shoots—where Shiro attempts to corral them.

“Wait, so what are we doing?” Hunk says, looking around at the rest of them.

“Something epic!” Lance calls out. 

“Shiro?” Keith says, squeezing his hand.

“Superhero poses,” Shiro decides. “Ready? Three… two… one…”

“Paladins, assemble!” cries Allura.

They’re nerds enough to obey. Limbs go flying and Lance knocks his elbow into Hunk’s side. Shiro’s legs swoop out from under him as Keith scoops him up into a bridal hold, like he’s Shiro’s personal hero; Shiro does Spiderman hands on behalf of both of them. 

“Fuck, I blinked,” Pidge mutters. Lance groans.

“Oh, dear, I guess we have to do another,” Coran drawls.

Once they’ve taken enough to ensure a few good shots, Shiro hands out the photos he printed as gifts for each of his friends. He glows seeing them light up and exclaim in delight.

The picture of their first kiss is something he’ll give to Keith privately later. For now, he presents him with one of the first images from their shoot, the two of them sitting facing each other.

Keith traces his finger over the image of Shiro’s face. “The way you’re looking at me…”

Shiro’s not even smiling in the picture, really, just looking at Keith with soft affection, with open longing, with love. And now he gets to touch Keith like he wanted to in that moment, so he does. He lifts Keith’s face with a gentle hand, skin warm under cool metal, and presses a kiss to his nose, then his lips.

Someone whoops in the background—experience says Lance, though it sounds kind of like Hunk. Shiro doesn’t bother to look. Keith holds up both middle fingers and gives Shiro one more loud smooch before he draws away, blushing furiously but looking extremely smug. Holding hands, they turn to the others admiring their own pictures. 

Pidge nudges her shoulder against Shiro’s arm. “You’ll let us know if you start another super cool project, won’t you?” 

Shiro nods sheepishly.

Allura look him in the eye. “Whatever you end up doing, we’re with you, Shiro.”

“Yeah,” Lance chimes in over her shoulder. “You can’t get rid of us that easy.”

Hunk calls for them to start dinner, laying his picture down and pulling Keith and Shiro into a big three-way hug before he goes to bring out plates. The rest follow his lead, arranging all the pictures together on the coffee table for safekeeping.

Keith looks over them all and smiles up at Shiro. “They’re kind of like family portraits.”

“Yeah,” Shiro agrees. In fact, Shiro’s been thinking about doing the same with his parents the next time he visits. He’ll at least show them what he’s been up to with the Paladin photoshoots; they always ask after his friends, wanting to know about the important people in his life, the ones he cares for and who care for him as they do.

The Paladins have had each other’s backs through academia and adulthood in ways their relatives can’t. Shiro thinks of how Hunk remembers everyone’s birthdays, how Allura sat with him through hours of calls to sort out appointments and insurance, how Keith has seen him through his best and his worst. How even after they’ve been apart, when they come back together, Shiro feels like he belongs. 

“Yeah,” he says again. “Because we’re family.”

🖤❤️🧡💛💚💙💖🖤

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! i always love hearing what you thought if you'd like to leave a comment. i'm on twitter [@leftishark_](https://www.twitter.com/leftishark_)


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